


Her Trick, His Treat

by VioletQueenMarie



Category: Vampire Academy & Related Fandoms, Vampire Academy Series - Richelle Mead
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mystery, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 19:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21276473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletQueenMarie/pseuds/VioletQueenMarie
Summary: There are stories that come up every Halloween about pale, red-eyed, fanged demons who prey on innocents at night and kill them for blood. Soulless, immortal monsters who don't need sleep or solid food or the sun. Unholy, unnatural nightmares who are death personified. I, Rose Hathaway, however, am not one to believe in this stuff. Vampires aren't real. [Strigoi AU of The Meeting]





	Her Trick, His Treat

There are stories that come up every Halloween about pale, red-eyed, fanged demons who prey on innocents at night and kill them for blood. Soulless, immortal monsters who don't need sleep or solid food or the sun. Possess the speed of lightning, strength of gods, touch of ice, sight of eagles, and hearing of wolves. Unholy, unnatural nightmares who are death personified. But have a beating heart and look and talk and just like us.

People call them vampires. Believers claim they lurk in the shadows of our homes, workplaces, schools, malls, restaurants, clubs—of everything. There yet not there, watching and waiting. And once we're vulnerable, they strike before we even realize it.

Death's not a bullet to the brain or knife to the chest. You know, something quick and easy. It's a bite to the neck, so we can feel our precious lives pour out of us drop by drop. It's a snap of the spine, so we can feel the individual cracks of our bones as they break. It's a hand around the throat, so we can feel our breathing go from smooth to raspy while we gurgle for help.

Making them prey is nearly impossible. Legend says there are only a handful of ways that can vanquish them: sunlight, a wooden stake to the heart, and decapitation. Yet the believers argue we still wouldn't stand a chance. We'd be annihilated in the blink of an eye. Holy ground or objects can repel them, but it wouldn't be enough to save us. Nothing would.

I, Rose Hathaway, however, am not one to believe in this stuff. I just see myths as another Halloween tradition meant to frighten and entertain. Anyone who actually takes these stories seriously needs a wake-up call. Vampires aren't real. They're figments of their overactive imaginations.

Now, a tradition I definitely believe in is dressing up. People who don't have no clue what they're missing. And they're as pathetic as the people who think bloodsuckers are coming after them. That right there is the truth—the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

This year, I'm dressing up as a huntress. Not necessarily a vampire huntress. Just a general one as my way of saying fuck all the scaredy cats losing their sanity over whatever monsters that don't exist. Unlike them, I'd be fearless enough to put up a fight, if such creatures were indeed real. I wouldn't let terror and hopelessness get the best of me.

The costume is sexy, which is the look I always go for on Halloween. It's an all-black, two-piece outfit. The crop top shows off my toned abs and has a built-in push up bra that amplifies my cleavage, shoulder pads, elbow pads, and a high collar. And the pants are skin-tight and emphasize my curvy hips and ass.

I complement the look with a stylishly messy updo, leaving out some strands 

that I curl to frame my face. Then I apply foundation, mascara, red lipstick, and do a smoky eye. After that, I put on knee-high black heeled boots and the arrow-filled quiver that accompanies the costume.

Smirking at my hotness, I turn out the bathroom lights then return to the bedroom for my purse and phone. I quickly send a text to my best friend, Lissa Dragomir, hoping she won't be mad that I'm running late to her annual Halloween party.

**Leaving now. Be there in 15.**

Her message comes faster than mine. She's upset, like I dreaded. **Are you kidding me?! The party's almost halfway over.**

**You know punctuality isn't my strong suit. So, calm down. Okay? And if it makes you feel any better, I'm fashionably late.**

**You better be drop-dead gorgeous when you get here. Because if you're not, I'm giving away all the desserts I'm saving for you.**

My eyes widen in panic. I can practically see her smug through the screen, and I bet she senses my frazzled state. I summon confidence. **Oh, there'll be no need for that. I'm gonna stop hearts. Guaranteed.**

**We'll see about that.**

Oh, she did not just go there.

I stab the keyboard.** Hell yeah, we will.**

Locking my phone, I shove it in my purse, collect the bow that's been sitting on my bed, kill the bedroom lights, then march to the front door. I'm sure Lissa is just messing with me. She knows how much my looks blow others away. Yet a tiny part of me can't help but be offended. If she's seriously doubting my looks tonight, she's going to be sadly mistaken. Those desserts are going to be all mine. I don't play when it comes to sweets.

Once I have the door open and living room lights switched off, I bump into something hard as soon as I step outside and stumble backwards. Since when did a brick wall get on my porch? A hand shoots out with impressive speed and steadies me, saving me from a nasty fall and possible injuries. The owner's cold touch seeps through my thin sleeve. I find it odd they're not warm, but then I remember how low the temperature drops in Portland at night, so I discard the thought.

"Careful, beautiful," the person says. Their deep, masculine voice is laced with a Russian accent and sends chills down my spine. "You almost hurt yourself."

I gaze up into a pair of red eyes. They resemble blood, but I know they're just contacts. Just like how his chalk-white skin is makeup. People always wear these when they dress up as vampires.

"That's because you were standing here like some creep," I retort, crossing my arms over my chest. He lowers his gaze to my cleavage, which is even more prominent. I scowl. "Glad you like the costume. Wish I could say the same for yours. Being a vampire is so boring and generic."

The man laughs. It's dark and brings out a sinister gleam in his eyes. I shiver again. "It's actually more fun than it seems. And being one is rarer than you think." He smiles, displaying pearly-white teeth and a killer set of fangs. For a moment, they look real. Yet I know it's still just another part of his costume. I wonder where he found such sharp canines…

"Whatever. I don't have the time nor interest to hear about the glories of vampirism. I have a party to get to and a bunch of dessert to eat." I lock the door then try to shove past him, but he doesn't move an inch. Frustrated, I push harder. He still doesn't budge. "Will you get the fuck out of my way?" I demand, seconds away from punching him. "I've got somewhere to be. Don't make me call the cops."

"You're not going anywhere." His malicious tone makes my stomach churn, but I refuse to let him see my fear.

I keep my voice steady. "The hell I am." I curl my hands into fists, ready to pounce. "I'm not going to tell you again. Get the fuck off my property, or I'm—"

"All right, all right. I'll leave."

"Excellent."

"After I show and tell you 'the glories of vampirism.'"

Hearing that is the last straw, and I send my fist straight for his face, which is actually insanely handsome and quite high up, thanks to his freakishly tall height. But before it makes contact, he grips it and forces it down so hard, it feels like it's breaking. I yelp in pain. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I glare at him, massaging it once he releases me. "You nearly shattered my hand."

"Open the door."

The authority of his voice paired with the hypnotic way he's looking at me convinces me to listen. I don't even think about the party I'm close to missing. Or the desserts I'm close to losing. All my mind focuses on is getting the door open.

I fish out my keys and unlock the wooden barrier. He pushes me inside then enters himself, locking the door behind us. He turns on the light, and for the first time during this whole ordeal, I get a good look at him.

His face is a godly masterpiece, chiseled to perfection and framed by dark brown hair that falls to his broad shoulders. The red eyes offer a haunting beauty. He wears a long, leather coat with a fitted T-shirt and jeans that hug his leanly muscled body underneath. When I reach up to stroke him, his skin is strangely cold. Cold like a corpse.

Unsettled yet too intrigued to pull away, I slowly trail my finger along his narrow nose then drift off to his defined cheekbone, winding down to his strong jaw then turning towards his full lips, which are soft under my warm touch. I flick my gaze to his, and we just stare at each other for what seems like forever. His gaze is so deep, and my heart races as smoldering heat rushes through me. I never expected being on fire to feel this amazing...

A different kind of fire suddenly blazes inside me, and I blink severely, furrowing my brows as I draw back my hand. I notice blood pooling at the tip of my finger and look up at the man's mouth, where I find my blood staining one of his fangs. Then, I realize there's no line on his skin that indicates makeup has been taken off in the places I touched. Those are really his teeth and skin tone.

That must mean his eyes are really red, too...

Oh God.

This can't be happening.

My eyes widen, as my jaw drops. "You're a vampire?!" This has to be some sick, twisted dream.

He gives me that devilish smile. "Guilty as charged."

Nope. This isn't some sick, twisted dream. This is some sick, twisted reality. I can't believe the stories are true. And I've got nothing to kill him with. I need to get out here. Fast.

I swing my purse at his head, praying it'd be enough to disorient him. Unfortunately, it's not. He dodges my attack with ease. I throw the bag on the floor then bolt in the opposite direction. But in a heartbeat, he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder like I weight nothing. I thrash and whack him with the fake bow as hard as I can. However, it doesn't faze him, and he takes me further into the house.

Shit!

I scream like a madwoman, hoping someone would hear me and come to my rescue. I hate that I'm a damsel in distress, but this threat is beyond my abilities to neutralize. I need all the help I can get, and it needs to get here soon, or else I'm becoming this bloodsucker's dinner.

Next thing I know, I'm being dumped on something large and firm yet plush—my bed. Oh no. The vampire locks the door and stares at me predatorily, his smile getting more and more animalistic. My heart's nearly bursting out my ribcage, and blood pounds in my ears. I bet he can hear it. See and smell the fear pouring out of me in sheets of sweat. The licking of his lips tells me he can.

He stalks forward in a hungry trance. I pant vigorously, scooting backwards until I hit the headboard. I've no one to call. Nowhere to go. I just remembered my phone is in my purse in the living room. And the only window in here is locked, narrow, and difficult to climb out of. It's also a few feet to my left. I wouldn't have time to make it over there, not with his reflexes. Even if I did, I wouldn't have time to at least unlock it. I'm completely trapped.

I swallow down the lumps in my throat—which keep returning—and watch as he comes up to the foot of the bed. Once he's there, he grips my legs and yanks me back down. He immediately covers my mouth with his hand, knowing I'm going to scream again, and pins me to the mattress with his weight.

"So much for being a fearless huntress," he says.

His words spark a moment of rage, and I bite down on his hand, causing him to yelp in pain and surprise. He jerks away from me, and I sit up and spit on his face. "Go to Hell, you demonic son of a bitch." I feel along my back for the quiver, but it's empty. The arrows must've fallen out.

Fuck!

The vampire recovers quickly and slaps me so hard, I almost black out. I tumble off the bed and frantically try to grab the bow even though it wouldn't do much, but he snatches it and tears it to pieces. In a flash, he throws me onto the bed again and climbs on top of me. I shut my eyes, hoping my death will be fast and painless, and imagine myself stuffing my face with desserts at Lissa's Halloween party.

However, death doesn't come.

Instead, it's this: "Join me."

My eyes open. "What?" Is this a goddamn joke? He must be smoking crack.

"Let me awaken you." I want to laugh, but the set of his gaze and jaw tells me he's deathly serious.

I shake my head. "No. I won't let you. I'd rather die than be like one of you." It's the truth. I'd never want to live eternity as a stalker and murderer who haunts and tortures and kills people without remorse. To lose my humanity for the sake of blood, power, and immortality. It isn't worth the destruction that comes out of it. Both to myself and others.

He condescendingly chuckles. "You don't know any better, Rose."

I freeze, blanching. "How do you know my name?"

My question is ignored. "This life is fantastic. You don't have mortal problems or limitations. You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Everyone is at your mercy, and they can't do anything to stop you. You're a god. An all-powerful god who can make anyone worship you. Don't you want to be a god, Rose?"

"No."

He arches an eyebrow. "So, you're perfectly fine with living a mundane life and being just like every other pathetic human?"

"Yes." I'm partially lying but try to mask it with conviction. It doesn't work as well as I hoped.

"No, you're not. I know you're tired of working two jobs on minimum wage. Staying in this small house. Driving a used, shitty car. Struggling to pay for your college tuition. I know you don't like living this way."

I writhe beneath him, scared and furious that he knew all this. He must've been tracking me for months. "You don't know anything about me," I say through gritted teeth despite the truth, desperate to escape.

"Oh, but I do." He leans down, until he's right beside my ear. His hot breath tickles my neck, and I shudder, unsure if it's from fear or arousal. Or both. "And you deserve so much better. Don't you think so, too?"

"Of course I do." I still try to escape.

"Then let me give you what you deserve."

His cold lips connect with the area behind my ear, and I tense and shudder again, moaning softly as he kisses a trail to the pulse point in my neck. The rational part of my brain screams this is terribly wrong, and I should accept death like the honorable person I am, no matter how right he is or appealing the offer. Although, the emotional part screams I indeed deserve a shot at a better life, and becoming a vampire is the best way to do it. I go back and forth between the two, too hesitant to make a choice, all the while hating myself for being turned on by this monster. Ultimately, he makes it for me.

His fangs pierce my neck, and I cry in pain as he drinks my blood. But the pain leaves as quickly as it comes, replaced by a blissful ecstasy that has me moaning even louder than before. I entangle my right hand in his silky hair while I grip his taut back with my left hand, pulling him closer to me and wrapping my legs around his waist. He grips me back just as hard—if not harder—and I feel him smirk against my skin, his groans of pleasure joining mine as we grind on each other. The world around us starts spinning.

Everything soon blurs together, and I see blackness creeping up at the edges of my vision. Gradually, it inches towards the center of my eyes as the vampire continues drinking from me. His sucking and grinding intensifies, and I feel my strength get lower. Hear my moans and breath get quieter.

By the time I realize he's draining me entirely, I'm too weak to resist. I fade away, wishing I had the chance to tell my loved ones goodbye. Lissa is the person on my mind when all movement ceases, and blackness swallows me.

And then, it throws me back up.

Prickling sensations stab my body, and I slowly open my eyes. The world looks so much brighter and clearer than I remembered. My bed feels firmer yet softer than it was before, too. I gaze down, twitching my fingers and limbs. The wound on my fingertip is gone. And my body is much stronger and paler.

Wasn't I tan, just a moment ago?

Wasn't I..._ dead_?

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty."

I jolt upright, briefly disoriented. "What happened?" I rub my eyes and forehead with a groan.

"I awakened you. You're Strigoi now."

"Strigoi?" I blink away my puzzlement, settling my gaze upon the owner of that cold yet velvety voice: the gorgeous, Russian man who attacked me. A sudden rush of anger and hatred burns through me, and I fly off the bed, baring my teeth. "You bastard! You tried to kill me!" I'm going to rip his head off.

He stops me before I can reach him, slamming me into the wall and pinning me in place. I'm surprised there isn't a hole in it, and I don't have a concussion. "I did you a favor, you ungrateful bitch," he growls. "You were a nobody. A goddamn nobody, and I made you somebody. So, you better thank me and show me some respect. Because I'm the only ally you've got. And I guarantee you, me being your enemy is the last thing you want."

What I really want is to tear him limb from limb. But going by the way he handled me like a rag doll, I'd be the one in smithereens instead. Great. I guess I do have to listen to him.

"My apologies," I harshly say, shoving him back. He glares at me but doesn't retaliate. I cross my arms over my chest. "So what the hell is a Strigoi? Aren't we just vampires?"

"No, we're not. We're the most powerful vampires of the three types that exist."

I furrow my brows. "Three?"

"Yes. Strigoi, Moroi, and dhampirs. I actually used to be a dhampir. A little less pathetic than you were as a human, but pathetic nonetheless." He turned around and lifted his hair, displaying seven tattoos that look like lightning bolts and one tattoo that looks like an "S" on his neck.

Now, I'm gaping. "Why do you have those tattoos? Who _are _you?" Is this guy a mobster?!

He faces me. "I'll explain everything later. Though, I'll at least introduce myself." He sticks out his large, rough hand. "I'm Dimitri Belikov." I accept it, and he brings mine to his lips, giving it a soft kiss as he stares deeply into my eyes. "I've come to take you to Russia to rule an empire with me, my goddess."

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a Romitri Halloween story for a while, and I'm so happy I'm finally able to share it with y'all! I hope you like this Strigoi twist on Romitri's meeting. I know I've left this open enough to potentially turn it into a longer story, but I'm leaning towards keeping it a one-shot and just leaving the possibilities to your imagination. Especially since I still gotta work on my other stories that need to get finished, lol. So, this'll probably be the only update. However, I'll consider doing a DPOV, if you guys are interested in that. Let me know what you think in a comment, and feel free to leave kudos. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, if you got this far! I hope y'all had a safe and fun Halloween! :-)
> 
> Until next time...


End file.
